Laws of Intercourse.--Americans in Europe.--Americans and English.
--Visiting in America.--Etiquette of Visits.--Presentations at Foreign
Courts.--Royal Receptions.--American Pride.--Pay of the President.
--American Diplomatist.
To JAMES STEVENSON, ESQUIRE, ALBANY.
I intend this letter to be useful rather than entertaining. Living, as we
Americans do, remote from the rest of the world, and possessing so many
practices peculiar to ourselves, at the same time that we are altogether
wanting in usages that are familiar to most other nations, it should not
be matter of surprise that we commit some mistakes on this side of the
water, in matters of taste and etiquette. A few words simply expressed,
and a few explanations plainly made, may serve to remove some errors, and
perhaps render your own contemplated visit to this part of the world more
agreeable.
There is no essential difference in the leading rules of ordinary
intercourse among the polished of all Christian nations. Though some of
these rules may appear arbitrary, it will be found, on examination, that
they are usually derived from very rational and sufficient motives. They
may vary, in immaterial points, but even these variations arise from
some valid circumstance.
The American towns are growing so rapidly, that they are getting to have
the population of capitals without enjoying their commonest facilities.
The exaggerated tone of our largest towns, for instance, forbids the
exchange of visits by means of servants. It may suit the habits of
provincial life to laugh at this as an absurdity, but it may be taken
pretty safely as a rule, that men and women of as much common sense as
the rest of their fellow-creatures, with the best opportunities of
cultivating all those tastes that are dependant on society, and with no
other possible motive than convenience, would not resort to such a
practice without a suitable inducement. No one who has not lived in a
large town that _does_ possess these facilities, can justly appreciate
their great advantages, or properly understand how much a place like New
York, with its three hundred thousand inhabitants, loses by not adopting
them. We have conventions for all sorts of things in America, some of
which do good and others harm, but I cannot imagine anything that would
contribute more to the comfort of society, than one which should settle
the laws of intercourse on principles better suited to the real
condition of the country than those which now exist. It is not unusual
to read descriptions deriding the forms of Europe, written by travelling
Americans; but I must think they have been the productions of very young
travellers, or, at least, of such as have not had the proper means of
appreciating the usages they ridicule Taking my own experience as a
guide, I have no hesitation in saying, that I know no people among whom
the ordinary social intercourse is as uncomfortable, and as little
likely to stand the test of a rational examination, as our own.
The first rule, all-important for an American to know, is, that the
latest arrival makes the first visit. England is, in some respects, an
exception to this practice, but I believe it prevails in all the rest of
Europe. I do not mean to say that departures are not made from this law,
in particular instances; but they should always be taken as exceptions,
and as pointed compliments. This rule has many conveniences, and I think
it also shows a more delicate attention to sentiment and feeling. While
the points of intrusion and of disagreeable acquaintances are left just
where they would be under our own rule, the stranger is made the judge
of his own wishes. It is, moreover, impossible, in a large town, to know
of every arrival. Many Americans, who come to Europe with every claim to
attention, pass through it nearly unnoticed, from a hesitation about
obtruding themselves on others, under the influence of the opinions in
which they have been educated. This for a long time was my own case, and
it was only when a more familiar acquaintance with the practices of this
part of the world made me acquainted with their advantages that I could
consent freely to put myself forward.
You are not to understand that any stranger arriving in a place like
Paris, or London, has a right to leave cards for whom he pleases. It is
not the custom, except for those who, by birth, or official station, or
a high reputation, may fairly deem themselves privileged, to assume this
liberty, and even then, it is always better to take some preliminary
step to assure one's self that the visit will be acceptable. The law of
salutes is very much the law of visits, in this part of the world. The
ship arriving sends an officer to know if his salute will be returned
gun for gun, and the whole affair, it is true, is conducted in rather a
categorical manner, but the governing principles are the same in both
cases, though more management may be required between two gentlemen than
between two men-of-war.
The Americans in Europe, on account of the country's having abjured all
the old feudal distinctions that still so generally prevail here, labour
under certain disadvantages, that require, on the one hand, much tact
and discretion to overcome, and, on the other, occasionally much
firmness and decision.
The rule I have adopted in my own case, is to defer to every usage, in
matters of etiquette, so far as I have understood them, that belongs to
the country in which I may happen to be. If, as has sometimes happened
(but not in a solitary instance in France), the claims of a stranger
have been overlooked, I have satisfied myself by remembering, that, in
this respect at least, the Americans are the superiors, for that is a
point in which we seldom fail; and if they are remembered, to accept of
just as much attention as shall be offered. In cases, in which those
arbitrary distinctions are set up, that, by the nature of our
institutions cannot, either in similar or in any parallel cases, exist
in America, and the party making the pretension is on neutral ground,
_if the claim be in any manner pressed_, I would say that it became an
American to resist it promptly; neither to go out of his way to meet it,
nor to defer to it when it crosses his path. In really good society
awkward cases of this nature are not very likely to occur; they are,
however, more likely to occur as between our own people and the English,
than between those of any other nation; for the latter, in mixed general
associations, have scarcely yet learned to look upon and treat us as the
possessors of an independent country. It requires perfect
self-possession, great tact, and some nerve, for an American, who is
brought much in contact with the English on the continent of Europe, to
avoid a querulous and ungentlemanlike disposition to raise objections on
these points, and at the same time to maintain the position, and command
the respect, with which he should never consent to dispense. From my own
little experience, I should say we are better treated, and have less to
overlook, in our intercourse with the higher than with the intermediate
classes of the English.
You will have very different accounts of these points, from some of our
travellers. I only give you the results of my own observation, under the
necessary limitations of my own opportunities. Still I must be permitted
to say that too many of our people, in their habitual deference to
England, mistake offensive condescension for civility. Of the two, I
will confess I would rather encounter direct arrogance, than the
assumption of a right to be affable. The first may at least be resisted.
Of all sorts of superiority, that of a condescending quality is the
least palatable.
I believe Washington is the only place in America where it is permitted
to send cards. In every other town, unless accompanied by an invitation,
and even then the card is supposed to be left, it would be viewed as
airs. It is even equivocal to leave a card in person, unless denied.
Nothing can be worse adapted to the wants of American society than this
rigid conformity to facts. Without porters; with dwellings in which the
kitchens and servants' halls are placed just as far from the
street-doors as dimensions of the houses will allow; with large
straggling towns that cover as much ground as the more populous capitals
of Europe, and these towns not properly divided into quarters; with a
society as ambitious of effect, in its way, as any I know; and with
people more than usually occupied with business and the family
cares,--one is expected to comply rigidly with the most formal rules of
village propriety. It is easy to trace these usages to their source,
provincial habits and rustic manners; but towns with three hundred
thousand inhabitants ought to be free from both. Such rigid conditions
cannot well be observed, and a consequence already to be traced is, that
those forms of society which tend to refine it, and to render it more
human and graceful, are neglected from sheer necessity. Carelessness in
the points of association connected with sentiment (and all personal
civilities and attention have this root) grows upon one like
carelessness in dress, until an entire community may get to be as
ungracious in deportment, as it is unattractive in attire.
The etiquette of visits, here, is reduced to a sort of science. A card
is sent by a servant, and returned by a servant. It is polite to return
it, next day, though three, I believe, is the lawful limits, and it is
politer still to return it the day it is received. There is no
affectation about sending the card, as it is not at all unusual to put
E.P. _(en personne)_ on it, by way of expressing a greater degree of
attention, even when the card is sent. When the call is really made in
person, though the visitor does not ask to be admitted, it is also
common to request the porter to say that the party was at the gate. All
these niceties may seem absurd and supererogatory, but depend on it they
have a direct and powerful agency in refining and polishing intercourse,
just as begging a man's pardon, when you tread on his toe, has an effect
to humanize, though the parties know no offence was intended.
Circumstances once rendered it proper that I should leave a card for a
Russian _diplomate_, an act that I took care he should know, indirectly,
I went out of my way to do, as an acknowledgment for the civilities his
countrymen showed to us Americans. My name was left at the gate of his
hotel (it was not in Paris), as I was taking a morning ride. On
returning home, after an absence of an hour, I found his card lying on
my table. Instead, however, of its containing the usual official titles,
it was simply Prince --. I was profoundly emerged in the study of this
new feature in the forms of etiquette, when the friend, who had prepared
the way for the visit, entered. I asked an explanation, and he told me
that I had received a higher compliment than could be conveyed by a
merely official card, this being a proffer of _personal_ attention. "You
will get an invitation to dinner soon;" and, sure enough, one came
before he had quitted the house. Now, here was a delicate and flattering
attention paid, and one that I felt, without trouble to either party;
one that the occupations of the _diplomate_ would scarcely permit him to
pay, except in extraordinary cases, under rules more rigid.
There is no obligation on a stranger to make the first visit, certainly;
but if he do not, he is not to be surprised if no one notices him. It is
a matter of delicacy to obtrude on the privacy of such a person, it
being presumed that he wishes to be retired. We have passed some time in
a village near Paris, which contains six or eight visitable families.
With one of these I had some acquaintance, and we exchanged civilities;
but wishing to be undisturbed, I extended my visit no farther, and I
never saw anything of the rest of my neighbours. They waited for me to
make the advances.
A person in society, here, who is desirous of relieving himself, for a
time, from the labour and care of maintaining the necessary intercourse,
can easily do it, by leaving cards of P.P.O. It might be awkward to
remain long in a place very publicly after such a step, but I ventured
on it once, to extricate myself from engagements that interfered with
more important pursuits, with entire success. I met several
acquaintances in the street, after the cards were sent, and we even
talked together, but I got no more visits or invitations. When ready _to
return to town_, all I had to do was to leave cards again, and things
went on as if nothing had happened. I parried one or two allusions to my
absence, and had no further difficulty. The only awkward part of it was,
that I accepted an invitation to dine _en famille_ with a literary
friend, and one of the guests, of whom there were but three, happened to
be a person whose invitation to dinner I had declined on account of
quitting town! As he was a sensible man, I told him the simple fact, and
we laughed at the _contretems_, and drank oar wine in peace.
The Americans who come abroad frequently complain of a want of
hospitality in the public agents. There is a strong disposition in every
man under institutions like our own, to mistake himself for a part of
the government, in matters with which he has no proper connexion, while
too many totally overlook those interests which it is their duty to
watch. In the first place, the people of the United Slates do not give
salaries to their ministers of sufficient amount to authorize them to
expect that any part of the money should be returned in the way of
personal civilities. Fifty thousand francs a year is the usual sum named
by the French, as the money necessary to maintain a genteel town
establishment, with moderate evening entertainments, and an occasional
dinner. This is three thousand francs more than the salary of the
minister, out of which he is moreover expected to maintain his regular
diplomatic intercourse. It is impossible for any one to do much in the
way of personal civilities, on such an allowance.
There is, moreover, on the part of too many of our people, an aptitude
to betray a jealous sensitiveness on the subject of being presented at
foreign courts. I have known some claim it _as a right_ when it is
yielded to the minister himself as an act of grace. The receptions of a
sovereign are merely his particular mode of receiving visits. No one
will pretend that the President of the United States is obliged to give
levees and dinners, nor is a king any more compelled to receive
strangers, or even his own subjects, unless it suit his policy and his
taste. His palace is his house, and he is the master of it, the same as
any other man is master of his own abode. It is true, the public expects
something of him, and his allowance is probably regulated by this
expectation, but the interference does not go so far as to point out his
company. Some kings pass years without holding a court at all; others
receive every week. The public obligation to open his door, is no more
than an obligation of expediency, of which he, and he only, can be the
judge. This being the rule, not only propriety, but fair dealing
requires that all who frequent a court should comply with the conditions
that are understood to be implied in the permission. While there exists
an exaggerated opinion, on the part of some of our people, on the
subject of the fastidiousness of princes, as respects their associates,
there exists among others very confused notions on the other side of the
question. A monarch usually cares very little about the quarterings and
the nobility of the person he receives, but he always wishes his court
to be frequented by people of education, accomplishments, and breeding.
In Europe these qualities are confined to _castes_, and, beyond a
question, as a general practice, every king would not only prefer, but,
were there a necessity for it, he would command that his doors should be
closed against all others, unless they came in a character different
from that of courtiers. This object has, in effect, been obtained, by
establishing a rule, that no one who has not been presented at his own
court can claim to be presented at any foreign European court; thus
leaving each sovereign to see that no one of his own subjects shall
travel with this privilege who would be likely to prove an unpleasant
guest to any other prince. But we have neither any prince nor any court,
and the minister is left to decide for himself who is, and who is not,
proper to be presented.
Let us suppose a case. A master and his servant make a simultaneous
request to be presented to the King of France. Both are American
citizens, and if _either_ has any political claim, beyond mere courtesy,
to have his request attended to, _both_ have. The minister is left to
decide for himself. He cannot so far abuse the courtesy that permits him
to present his countrymen at all, as to present the domestic, and of
course he declines doing it. In this case, perhaps, public opinion would
sustain him, as, unluckily, the party of the domestics is small in
America, the duties usually falling to the share of foreigners and
blacks. But the principle may be carried upwards, until a point is
attained where a minister might find it difficult to decide between that
which his own sense of propriety should dictate, and that which others
might be disposed to claim. All other ministers get rid of their
responsibility by the acts of their own courts; but the minister of the
republic is left exposed to the calumny, abuse, and misrepresentation of
any disappointed individual, should he determine to do what is strictly
right.
Under these circumstances, it appears to me that there are but two
courses left for any agent of our government to pursue: either to take
_official_ rank as his only guide, or to decline presenting any one. It
is not his duty to act as a master of ceremonies; every court has a
regular officer for this purpose, and any one who has been presented
himself, is permitted on proper representations to present others. The
trifling disadvantage will be amply compensated for, by the great and
peculiar benefits that arise from our peculiar form of government.
These things will quite likely strike you as of little moment. They are,
however, of more concern than one living in the simple society of
America may at first suppose. The etiquette of visiting has of course an
influence on the entire associations of a traveller, and may not be
overlooked, while the single fact that one people were practically
excluded from the European courts, would have the same effect on their
other enjoyments here, that it has to exclude an individual from the
most select circles of any particular town. Ordinary life is altogether
coloured by things that, in themselves, may appear trifling, but which
can no more be neglected with impunity, than one can neglect the varying
fashions in dress.
The Americans are not a shoving people, like their cousins the English.
Their fault in this particular lies in a morbid pride, with a
stubbornness that is the result of a limited experience, and which is
too apt to induce them to set up their own provincial notions, as the
standard, and to throw them backward into the intrenchments, of
self-esteem. This feeling is peculiarly fostered by the institutions. It
is easy to err in this manner; and it is precisely the failing of the
countryman, everywhere, when he first visits town. It is, in fact, the
fault of ignorance of the world. By referring to what I have just told
you, it will be seen that these are the very propensities which will be
the most likely to make one uncomfortable in Europe, where so much of
the initiative of intercourse is thrown upon the shoulders of the
stranger.
I cannot conclude this letter without touching on another point, that
suggests itself at the moment. It is the fashion to decry the
niggardliness of the American government on the subject of money, as
compared with those of this hemisphere. Nothing can be more unjust. Our
working men are paid better than even those of England, with the
exception of a few who have high dignities to support. I do not see the
least necessity for giving the President a dollar more than he gets
to-day, since all he wants is enough to entertain handsomely, and to
shield him from loss. Under our system, we never can have an _exclusive_
court, nor is it desirable, for in this age a court is neither a school
of manners, nor a school of anything else that is estimable. These facts
are sufficiently proved by England, a country whose mental cultivation
and manners never stood as high as they do to-day, and yet it has
virtually been without a court for an entire generation. A court may
certainly foster taste and elegance; but they may be quite as well
fostered by other, and less exclusive, means. But while the President
may receive enough, the heads of departments, at home, and the foreign
ministers of the country, are not more than half paid, _particularly the
latter_. The present minister is childless, his establishment and his
manner of living are both handsome, but not a bit more so than those of
a thousand others who inhabit this vast capital, and his intercourse
with his colleagues is not greater than is necessary to the interests of
his country. Now, I know from his own statement, that his expenses,
without a family, exceed by one hundred per cent, his salary. With a
personal income of eighty to a hundred thousand francs a years, he can
bear this drain on his private fortune, but he is almost the only
minister we ever had here who could.
The actual position of our diplomatic agents in Europe is little
understood at home. There are but two or three modes of maintaining the
rights of a nation, to say nothing of procuring those concessions from
others which enter into the commercial relations of states, and in some
degree affect their interests. The best method, certainly, as respects
the two first, is to manifest a determination to defend them by an
appeal to force; but so many conflicting interests stand in the way of
such a policy, that it is exceedingly difficult, wisest and safest in
the end though it be, to carry it out properly. At any rate, such a
course has never yet been in the power of the American government,
whatever it may be able to do hereafter, with its increasing numbers and
growing wealth. But even strength is not always sufficient to obtain
voluntary and friendly concessions, for principle must, in some degree,
be respected by the most potent people, or they will be put to the ban
of the world. Long diplomatic letters, although they may answer the
purposes of ministerial _exposés_, and read well enough in the columns
of a journal, do very little, in fact, as make-weights in negotiations.
I have been told here, _sub rosâ_, and I believe it that some of our
laboured efforts, in this way to obtain redress in the protracted
negotiation for indemnity, have actually lain months in the _bureaux_,
unread by those who alone have power to settle the question. Some
_commis_ perhaps may have cursorily related their contents to his
superior, but the superior himself is usually too much occupied in
procuring and maintaining ministerial majorities, or in looking after
the monopolizing concerns of European politics, to wade through folios
of elaborate argument in manuscript. The public ought to understand,
that the point presents itself to him in the security of his master's
capital, and with little or no apprehension of its coming to an appeal
to arms, very differently from what it occasionally presents itself in
the pages of a President's message, or in a debate in Congress. He has
so many demands on his time, that it is even difficult to have a working
interview with him at all; and when one is obtained, it is not usual to
do more than to go over the preliminaries. The details are necessarily
referred to subordinates.
Now, in such a state of things, any one accustomed to the world, can
readily understand how much may be effected by the kind feelings that
are engendered by daily, social intercourse. A few words can be
whispered in the ears of a minister, in the corner of a drawing-room,
that would never reach him in his bureau. Then _all_ the ministers are
met in society, while the _diplomate_, properly speaking, can claim
officially to see but _one_. In short, in saving, out of an overflowing
treasury, a few thousand dollars a year, we trifle with our own
interests, frequently embarrass our agents, and in some degree discredit
the country. I am not one of your _sensitives_ on the subject of parade
and appearance, nor a member of the embroidery school; still I would
substitute for the irrational frippery of the European customs, a
liberal hospitality, and a real elegance, that should speak well for the
hearts and tastes of the nation. The salary of the minister at Paris, I
know it, by the experience of a housekeeper, ought to be increased by at
least one half, and it would tell better for the interests of the
country were it doubled. Even in this case, however, I do not conceive
that an American would be justified in mistaking the house of an envoy
for a national inn; but that the proper light to view his allowances
would be to consider them as made, first, as an act of justice to the
functionary himself; next, as a measure of expediency, as connected with
the important interests of the country. As it is, I am certain that no
one but a man of fortune can accept a foreign appointment, without
committing injustice to his heirs; and I believe few do accept them
without sincerely regretting the step, in after years.